Black Balloon
by ithinkiwannamarryyou
Summary: Kurtofsky! Nuff Said!
1. Black Balloon

**Hey guys! First fic ever! Yay! Totally in love with this pairing (I had never heard of fanfiction before I heard about them lol) so yeah, here's my wee go at it **

**BTW, When it's italic that means Kurt (or Karofsky) are thinking**

**Kay, bye xxxx**

****

Kurt was pacing around the backstage part of the auditorium. He was going to go on the stage and sing but his voice was coarse with how many sobs had left him in the last hour.

"I'm gonna kill you."

The words took over everything important and absorbed Kurt's brain until he could barely stand up straight. He didn't even notice his third button undone on his Marc Jacobs cardigan. Why is this getting at you Kurt? He must throw that word around like it's harmless. He couldn't have meant it, Kurt's heart told him. Perhaps, he's just a little confused. I mean, I would certainly be with a rep to maintain and all the geeks to slushy. This was the voice of Kurt's very forgiving heart. But Kurt's mind (which knew a heck of a lot more) was replaying Karofsky's menacing voice and couldn't help but think it wasn't an empty threat.

Kurt rubbed his cheeks of tears and made his second attempt in an hour to pull himself together.

_God_

The soprano fixed his buttons and stood up.

_Stop getting worked up!_

It was still an utter mystery to Kurt why this hurt him so much. Two weeks ago if that complete puckhead said something like that (or worse) to him, it'd roll right off his back like a rock on a hill.

_Maybe it was the kiss._

BAM! There it is! The one thing Kurt zoned out of his head has been breached. Call the red alert, here come the waterworks!

"Stop being such an idiot!"

Kurt sat back down for the third time he had walked in. Folding his arms back around his knees. Kurt started to feel slightly sorry for himself. And what reason should he not! He gets bullied his whole life by a neanderthal who can't tie his own shoe laces, (not to mention BUY a half decent pair of shoes) and then he gives him a toothpaste/cheeto tasting kiss! Kurt has every reason to feel sorry for himself!

_Oh stop thinking like that!_

Oh hello, legs! You still work?

_You've been taking stuff like this since the beginning of forever!_

Okay, maybe that was an exaggeration but seven years of bullying can really do things to you. Lucky Kurt had self control. He respects himself and his sexuality, without that admirable self worth and control Kurt's one of the few who haven't gone crazy or killed themselves.

Killed. . .

Karofsky. . .

Kurt stomped his foot on the ground.

"NO!"

He let out a quiet cry and grabbed his bag.

_I need to get out of here._

He got but two paces when he felt the stickyness of the strap. Blueberry. it was the worst! Kurt pulled it close to his face and inspected the damage. _For the love of GaGa_. Quickly, Kurt took his phone, scarf and biology homework out of the bag and left it underneath an old broken piano. Kurt may be the number one victim in the school for slushy assault and on more than one occasion had been humiliated by bad gay jokes but he had pride enough to not walk around with a stained Ralph Lauren. It was like going jogging with sandals. Pointless and stupid looking. Kurt put his phone in his pocket and wrapped the scarf around his neck with one hand. Another one of Kurt's many talents. He straightened his hat and headed for the door going to the stage.

"And you're not thinking 'bout tomorrow. . ."

Kurt froze. Who was singing? Who was singing so well? Kurt listened further as he crept up the narrow steps.

"'Cause you were the same as me. . ."

O. . .M. . .G. High C. This guy was good (or this girl was bad.) And. . .is that. . . a guitar I can hear? Kurt stopped at the final step and didn't realise the grin stealing over his face.

"Wow", Kurt whispered the word quietly, scared he'd break the moment. He stood back and rested his head on the wall and let the music wash over him. _See? One minute you're crying about some dimwitted closet case and all you need is music to help you. You're not that upset!_

"Comin' down the world turned over

and angels fall without you there

And I go on as you get colder. . ."

Kurt felt the impulsive need to squeal!

_Gosh, he's really good! Much better than Rachel. Hey he'd give me a run for my money (if I made any money)_

Whoever this was they possessed the one thing Kurt had always wanted. A deeper baritone. A tenor. If Kurt had that he'd be on broadway by now, for sure.

"And there's no time left. . .for. . .um."

The guitar came to a halt. Kurt couldn't help but giggle. Maybe he had an angel voice, no better than that but at least he could remember the words.

Okay, that's it Kurt, now go up to the stage, down the steps and out the door. Don't get distracted by the absolute GOD on the stage. He was probably putting kit away and going the same way as you. Walk past as if he didn't exist. One step to the stage.

Two steps to the stage. . .

Three. . .

"Oh my God, you're really good! Seriously like Lady GaGa good! Except you're a guy and you can- Oh God, where'd you learn the high C?" _Well done, Kurt. Well fricking done._

Just the way Kurt had frozen when he heard his, the boy froze when Kurt spoke, "Um. . .yeah." The boy eventually found his Nike trainers beneath his legs and darted to the dark side of the stage, hiding himself from Kurt's admiring gaze.

"Seriously, you should come here more often or, like, join glee club!"

The boy blushed a little and put the guitar back where he found it. He was considering stealing it but in the end felt it would be much too difficult to get a guitar from here to his pick-up truck.

"Look, um, I'm trin'na do stuff so could you like, y'know, go?" The boy tried to stifle his voice of rage and embarrassment as he turned to Kurt.

Kurt looked hurt, "Yeah, sure but if if you need a singing mentor or someone who can play the piano something hot, just y'know, ask me or whatever." Kurt gave out the slightest chuckle and concealed his excitement. He was befriending a boy he couldn't even see. It was sort of romantic in a weird way.

"Yeah, I don't think I'll do that." The boy went into the light with a menacing look on his face.

Karofsky.

****

**So, yeah :D**


	2. Confrontation

**You guys are awesome!**

_When had it suddenly become so hard to breathe? _Kurt thought as he instinctively took a step backwards when he saw Karofsky's face in the light. His fingers began to go a bit trembly and he went to reach for the strap of his bag (something he tended to do when he was scared) but found nothing there, so instead took another step back.

_Oh God. No way. This isn't happening. Breathe, Kurt, breathe._

Karofsky was still standing just under the spotlight, apparantly paralyzed with fear just as much as Kurt was.

_Crap, he just heard me sing. Who does that? Just eavesdropping on people when they're. . . they're singing._

Karofsky moved his arm, as if going to make some sort of threat or punch Kurt. He knew both were completely out of the question. He couldn't punch Kurt because Kurt still saw him singing and no way in hell could beat it out of him, and what kind of a guy is going to punch_ that _face? It doesn't seem like it should be legal. But most of all, Karofsky couldn't threaten Kurt. He knew only too well how much THAT was going to help. Instead, he just lowered it, looking slightly defeated. Defeated by his own will.

"You do this much, homo?" Karofsky kind of forced that one out. He wasn't up for speaking. The shock of Kurt hearing him singing was still messing with his head. "Go around, listening to people knowing only too well they'll get their ass kicked if they do?"

Kurt stood there. Motionless. It was as if he couldn't hear Karofsky. No that wasn't true, he still _heard_ Karofsky's voice but didn't really hear the words.

"You listening to me, fag?"

"You're really good."

_Whoops._

Kurt found his voice and unfortunately could think of nothing more to leave it than the ever so eloquent words of 'you're really good'. Kurt decided to ignore that he heard the words homo and fag leave Karofsky's lips and decided to just go with the one thing that was keeping him from retreating out the door and through the car park into his Jeep.

"Like, _really_ good."

Karofsky looked slightly dumbfounded. No snide remarks? No snappy come back? Not even one of those little hair brushes that he couldn't help but find adorable. He folded his arms over his chest and thought. Hard. What can I say to that? The queston riddled him for best part of six seconds until:

"Really?" Nice one dumbass.

"Yeah."

"Um. . .I. . .yeah."

Why was this becoming so awkward? Kurt and Karofsky's conversations were never so silent. They weren't exactly nice but at least there was noise. Even if the noise was usually someone screaming. NEANDERTHAL! HOMO! JOCKSTRAP! FAG! God, how Karofsky would've killed for some of that sweet old insulting right about now.

"You're a tenor." Seeing as this was the only thing running through Kurt's mind at the moment (_a tenor? Whaaa...?)_ he said this. "And a high C. I don't think me or even Finn can do that." Stop Kurt, just stop! "Your voice is really rich and deep. Velvety almost."

_Velvet? Doesn't my mom have pyjamas like that?_

"What?"

"You got pipes."

"Oh."

Things were silent for a while after that but neither of them moved. Kurt resisted running for his life and even Karofsky resisted running for his dignity. The silence wasn't weird. Or awkward. It sort of fitted the moment, like when you're watching a movie. Just enjoy it. After a second, Kurt took the bravest step he'd ever taken (besides all those baby steps he took in the locker room) and

"What were you singing?" _Oh, please do tell! I want to sing like that too!_

"Uh. . .it's called Black Balloon." Karofsky still felt a little weird standing there, in front of Kurt and still hearing no insults or witty slander. It was different. In a good way. He could get used to this side of Kurt.

"Who sings that?" Kurt stood a tiny bit closer. Not close enough so that he could touch Karofsky or even see his eyes under the harsh stage lights, but still closer. Karofsky mumbled something under his breath about not knowing and just finding it somewhere before he suddenly turned around. The sudden jolt made Kurt jump and his heart started beating five times faster than normal but calmed when he saw he was walking away. "Where you going?"

Karofsky held his breath.

_Seriously, dude? You want to know? Seems like yesterday you couldn't stand being near me._

"i'm away to hockey practice." Karofsky paused and pulled on his letterman jacket. Kurt thought he looked better with it off. Not that he thought he looked good, just better. "And maybe for an hour I can forget for one second that I'm a raging homo."

And with that, Karofsky left Kurt all alone in the big, dark auditorium. Kurt never noticed how eery it was in here.

But oh well, no matter! Karofsky can sing!


	3. After Thoughts

Karofsky skipped the last two periods of school that day. He figured that driving around aimlessly while trying to gather his thoughts back to where the once stood was much more productive than double maths. It was algebra anyway and besides, Captain Homo was in that class. He sat in his car for what seemed like hours but was no more than five or ten minutes. Completely still. Like if he moved the small rocks and ash that were his thoughts would erupt into a volcanic explosion. An explosion that's worst effect would probably be taken out on that fa- Hummel. Hummel, yes, there was Hummel wasn't there. Whenever Karofsky felt like maybe things weren't as bad as they seemed and that _someone _had only just heard him singing, he comes back to Earth and realises it wasn't _just anyone. _That, that certain _someone _was victim to a crime of passion. So Karofsky liked to think of it. Calling it a kiss felt too real (but of course it was real wasn't it?). Sometimes his mind drifted back to that moment in the locker room, unaware of the anger that proceeded afterwards.

_"You are nothing but a scared little boy who can't handle how extraordinarily ordinary you are!"_

_God, what does that even mean? _Karofsky went to hit the wheel with his fist but stopped and just slumped. Perhaps it would be best if he just left it there. It was hard to do so though. When Karofsky put his arm up to tell Kurt to get out he knew then that they should have stayed in his pockets, where no harm could be done. But his face was so soft. It was like holding a pillow in you hands, no cradling it. Once Karofsky's hands were on Hummel's face he knew there was no going back, so he decided it was going to be embedded in his memory how his skin felt. In the end this was a bad thing because Karofsky couldn't forget about Kurt's lips on his. Although they never did much, they were still as feathery and soft as Karofsky had imagined.

So, Karofsky sat there for best part of two hours before he heard the end of day bell ring. He straightened up and put the key in the ignition (with much complications due to shivering from the cold weather) and turned on the radio. He skimmed through the stations until he found one that ACTUALLY played music (he was sick of people just talking and not playing music) and kept it there. Some U2 song played and Karofsky revved up the engine.

"With or without you. . ."

Karofsky started singing as he tried to get the truck moving.

"I can't live, with or without you." It wasn't long until he was air guitaring and screaming at the top of his lungs. "And you give yourself away! Whoaaa ooh!"

He got lost, right there. The music took him away from all the confusion and hurt inside his head. For those two minutes that the song played he screwed his eyes shut and felt. . . well he wasn't sure how he felt. Not happy but a bit. . .better. The truck finally made it's way out of the parking lot and along the icy street.

"Hey man." Puckerman sat next to Kurt in algebra and smiled as he sat down (_God, if he wants to cheat off me all he has to do is ask)_ "Uhm. . .so."

"My homework's in my bag, which has mysteriously disappeared due to circumstances involving blueberry slushies." Kurt looked at Puck and gave a faint smile. " It's behind the broken piano underneath the stage in the auditorium."

Puck gave him a grin "Thanks man!" smacked Kurt's arm (which he never really liked but it felt nice to be accepted as his friend) and made his way out the class before the teacher came in. Thank God none of Kurt's close friends were in this class, otherwise he would've been a tedious bore. Usually, he would be thriving in conversations about fashion, music or movies but right now his mind was only focused on one thing.

_That voice._

Gosh, that voice! Kurt tried to relive every second of hearing that beautiful, almost seductive- - -. NO! No he wasn't! Nor was he fantasizing about that voice singing to him. Nope, not even for a second! His voice was good, Kurt would give him that but he would probably be put off by the fact that it was Karofsky's voice and not someone like Finn's or Blaine's.

_Oh Hallelujah! My Blaine! How I would kill to see his gorgeous face right now!_

Kurt reached in his pocket for his phone and began texting like a machine. He sat at the back of the class and didn't worry about Ms Castle hearing the constant clicky noises from Kurt's thumbs rattling away.

**heyy xx wanna meet afterz? k SEND**

Kurt thought for a minute about Blaine. God, he was so beautiful wasn't he? He had those dark, brown eyes and that smile that could probably knock someone off their feet.

_Bzzzz_

**oh hi ;) um, soz can't got warbler practise tonite pal xx and what r u doin txting in class? xo**

Kurt smiled at the text. Blaine was perfect. Everything a guy could possibly want. Gorgeous. Funny. Smart. Amazing singer.

So why could Kurt only think of that crooner voice all the way home that day?


	4. Mothers

**I realise this story doesn't have many reviews or anything but um. . . yeah I like writing it so. Oh well! Oh and for the record I don't speak a word of Polish! (YAY FOR GOOGLE TRANSLATE!) So I be beggin' yer pardon. xx**

"Wiham, najdroższa!"

Karofsky's mom rushed over to him the second his sulky ass came through the door and gave him a hug. She hadn't seen him in about a month and a half. She was always away on business trips or visiting Poland making sure the family was okay. Despite today's strange and annoying happenings, his mother visiting was bound to send him sleeping with a smile on his face. Karofsky squeezed her back with so much force and love he took her off the ground (Karofsky wasn't sure where he got his 6 ft 1" scale from, his mom and dad were both pretty short and it never ceased to weird him out a little.

"Oh, God it's so good to see you! It's been too long!"

Karofsky felt the sudden need to not let go but did when she pushed him.

"Oh kochanie, you forget your language so soon?"

Oh God, I've missed her.

"Course not, Jak mogłam, kiedy jesteś zawsze dręczące mnie?" How could I when you're always nagging me?

She gave him a light nudge with her elbow and pulled him into another hug. She started whispering about how she missed him in Polish. She tended to speak very little English when she visited, as she had some strange fear of her little David forgetting his tongue when she left. Karofsky couldn't forget a word of Polish even if he tried.

"How was your day, son?" Paul Karofsky patted his son on the back and beckoned him to sit down at the table with him and his mother.

"Meh." Karofsky shrugged his shoulders and started smiling like crazy when his mother rolled her eyes. "When did you get back? How long will you be here? Nothing's

wrong with Uncle Pawel is there?"

Felka (Karofsky always liked that name) just smacked him on the arm.

"Polska, mój słodki!" Polish, my sweet!

Karofsky smiled. Sometimes he wondered if she even knew English.

"Jak długo będziesz tutaj?" How long will you be here? Karofsky missed his mom like crazy sometimes! He often wonders what life would be like if she around all the time

and not just randomly showing up whenever she chose. That was a life Karofsky would be more than happy with. It was hard to deny that Karofsky was anything less than a mommy's boy. He just loved her so much. So did his dad. It's a miracle how he's managed to put up with the constant back and forth travelling and the Polish insults that he's never understood. (Karofsky was a polish name and but Paul was raised in Jersey, whereas Kozubal was an even more Polish name and Felka was raised in Poland).

Felka finally got round to answering that question of his. Kind of. She pinched her nose and gave him her all knowing glare of "Muhaha! I Know Everything and You Know Nothing!". When Paul had met Felka, he had been visiting his homeland with his mother and father. He was eighteen and fell in love with her the second they saw eachother. it always got Karofsky to think that they didn't even speak the same language and they were still as in love as ever. It was really romantic.

Oh God. I'm so gay. Karofsky winced.

"Wszystko w porządku, mój słodki?" Are you okay, my sweet?

Karofsky gave a reassuring smile to his mother and turned to his dad. "I got lots of homework, Dad. Tell her I'm away." Karofsky gave a teasing smile.

"Ssshh!" His mother kissed him on the cheek before he retreated to his room and collapsed on his bed.

At least she'll keep my mind of things. Well. For a while anyway.

He sat up and turned to the battered, holey, almost snappable guitar sitting in the corner of the room. He had, had that thing since he was ten. He can still remember saving up the $35 and 67 cents he needed to buy it. He started selling lemonade until he realised he could just take the money off people.

Karofsky sighed. You started all this didn't you. Karofsky reached for the cherished instrument. On the back there was a signature from Johnny Rzeznik. He was a guy in some band he liked when he was around thirteen years old but can't remember ever meeting him.

If you didn't come along then none of this singing crap would've came up.

He started playing a little tune and humming along. Despite how much he hated himself for it, singing was probably the best feeling in the world. Besides slamming someone into the walls at hockey practice that was pretty dope too.

"Yesterday. . ."

"All my troubles seemed so far away. . ."

"Now it looks as though they're here to stay. Oh I believe, in yesterday."

Then the humming strated again. He always had a problem remembering the words.

"Hey Kurt!" Kurt sulked as he heard Finn call on him. "Come check this out!"

Kurt walked to the living room and slumped on the couch. "What?"

"Burt and my mom have left for their honeymoon!" Finn sounded way too excited. Of course he did, this meant none stop parties and drinking from the carton for two weeks straight. "They left a note that says you knew. Why. . .?"

Kurt looked at him. "They didn't tell you because I was supposed to be the one to give you the big speech on how this is my house, my rules but I'm so tired I couldn't care less if you tear the place beam from beam."

Finn looked astonished and a little excited but didn't press on. "Cool, thanks man!"

Kurt picked up his bag, which he got Noah to bring back for him, to the washing machine and slung it in. The material wasn't that delicate, so it should survive he thought. He eagerly made his way down to the basement and turned on his laptop. He was greeted by his desktop picture (a photo of him and Blaine at the park a few weeks ago) and smiled.

You'll cheer me up. He started going through photos of him and Blaine together. Most of them were at the park that very same day but there were a few when they went to see Rent and a couple from when he visited Dalton (which was very frequently).

He brought up Google suddenly to take himself out of his 'sexy-uniform-wearing-school-boy-crush' haze and found himself singing a song he couldn't put his finger on what it was.

"And angels fall without you there, and I go on. . ."

Oh hell no.

Kurt googled the lyrics and a site that said "GOO GOO DOLLS - BLACK BALLOON LYRICS" came up. Karofsky had said something about black balloon. Kurt downloaded the song and listened to the singer.

God, he's NOTHING like the way Karofsky was. Kurt froze. Stop this. Stop this immediantly.


	5. Hello

**Hi xx Thank you so much for the kind reviews! You guys make me happy **

**xxkurthummelxx is online.**

_Oh no_. Karofsky stared at his name for what felt like years. _How the hell did I get his IM?_

**xxkurthummelxx has changed his personal message to: The Goo Goo Dolls may be the greatest band to bless the planet**

Karofsky was getting more and more messed up by this. _Okay so first he has my IM. Now he's going on about The Goo Goo Dolls. Wait. . .I sang. . .Oh crap!_

**xxkurthummelxx: **Hello.

"Oh what?" Dave gave the keyboard a confused look. "What the. . .?"

**mojami****łość****: **wat

**xxkurthummelxx: **I'm saying hi.

**mojami****łość****: **i get that. y?

**xxkurthummelxx: **I'm gonna be honest, I have no idea. . .

**mojami****łość** is offline.

_Nah screw him! If he wants to fuck with my head I'll do the same!_

**mojami****łość** is online.

**mojami****łość****:** dont think tht just coz ur an eavesdropping lil fag u can start spreadin stuff bout me.

**xxkurthummelxx: **. . .

**mojami****łość****:** wat?

**xxkurthummelxx:** I just said hi.

**xxkurthummelxx is offline.**

"Fuck."

"God, he's such a jerk!" Kurt threw a pillow at the nearest wall and kicked Finn's football helmet to the other side of the room. "Who does that? Who?"

Kurt was pissed. But, what about Finn hadn't quite figured out. Maybe it was best if he just let Kurt unload on him for a couple of minutes with no questions. Yeah. That sounded like an okay idea.

"I swear! The nerve of him! After all the. . UGH!" Kurt threw himself on the floor and lay there waiting for Finn to say something. Anything!

"Uh. . .Might seem a little stupid to ask now, after you've destroyed my football helmet and I'm pretty sure that chair wasn't there when you came in but. . .who?"

Kurt had to use all his willpower to not explode. "Jacob. Jacob Ben Israel!" That came out too loud. "He posted something about me on his stupid" Kurt kicked the floor. "blog."

"Oh. Yeah that kid's stupid, man." Finn stood up and looked down on Kurt and offered him a hand up. "No one reads that thing anyway."

Kurt took his arm and was pulled to the ground. "Yeah, you're right. Sorry, Finn. Y'know about the. . .helmet and stuff." Kurt straightened his jacket and felt a pat on the back. he turned 'round to his brother and gave him a small smile before practically stumbling down the stairs to his room.

_Why didn't I just say Karofsky? Maybe then I could get Finn to kick his butt and he might leave me alone!_

Kurt got back on his bed and pulled the laptop on his lap and hit play on the player that was up. Kurt had to admit, for a completely insensitive idiot (who had no respect for others feelings), he had good taste in music. These Goo Goo Dolls people were amazing. They were right up there with Lady GaGa. Okay, maybe not that high up the Kurt scale but they were definately good! Kurt contimplated for a good few minutes whether he should go back on IM. If he does, he'll get called a fag and if he doesn't he won't. If he does, he can ask Tina to send him a link to that new purse she bought. If he doesn't, then she won't.

_Okay, it's in the name of fashion! Kurt convinces himself THIS is why he is back on IM._

**xxkurthummelxx is online**

**tinacohenchang is online**

**blaine is online**

**mojami****łość**** is online.**

_Oh no._

**tinacohenchang:** let's cut the small talk: /images/I/41GSX9A6DXL._SL500_AA280_.jpg

**xxkurthummelxx:** It's a bit. . .dark.

**tinacohenchang:** yeh, that's sorta the point!

**xxkurthummelxx:** In that case, I 3 it!

**tinacohenchang:** I knew you would!

**xxkurthummelxx:** xx

**mojami****łość**** sent you a nudge.**

_Oh God, what does he want?_

**xxkurthummelxx: **What?

**mojami****łość****:**. . .

**xxkurthummelxx:** What is it, Karofsky?

**mojami****łość****:** sorry.

**xxkurthummelxx:** What for?

**mojami****łość****:** u mean u forgot?

**xxkurthummelxx:** Well, I hate to put too fine a point on it, Karofsky but there are a lot of things in the past you've done to mean that deserve a "sorry"

**mojami****łość****:** . . .

**mojami****łość****:** sorry for callin u a fag.

**xxkurthummelxx:** On which occasion? The one half an hour ago, the one last week, the week before that?

**mojami****łość****:** god stop being such a bitch about it. when was the last time i said a sorry to u? just be friggin happy i'm doin it now. i'm sorry i called you a fag on the im.

**mojami****łość****:** jesus.

**xxkurthummelxx:**. . .

**mojami****łość****: **wat?

**xxkurthummelxx: **Why are you sorry?

**mojami****łość****: **coz i didnt mean it. nd i know from. . .um. . .past expeerince that u wouldnt spread anythin bout me.

**xxkurthummelxx:** Experience **

**mojami****łość****: **wat?

Kurt rolled his eyes.

**xxkurthummelxx:** You wrote "expeerince". It's experience.

**mojami****łość****:** oh rite. i was goin 2 rite doświadczenie just 2 confuse u.

Kurt looked at the screen in a desperate attempt to desipher whatever grammatical error Karofsky had written now.

**xxkurthummelxx:** doświadczenie? Is that even a word? In any language? Ever?

**xxkurthummelxx:** And it's "right" not rite.

**xxkurthummelxx:** You shoud get a spellchecker.

**xxkurthummelxx:** ?

**mojami****łość**** is offline.**

_Of course he is._ Kurt closed the page. Only for another to open.

**blaine:** Are you ignoring me? ;))

_Oh praise the Lord._

**xxkurthummelxx: **How could I?

**blaine: **How was school? x

**xxkurthummelxx:** It had it's events, I suppose.

_Oh crap! I forgot to say to Karofsky about him singing! Maybe, that's for the best actually. . ._

**blaine:** Anything interesting?

**xxkurthummelxx:** Nah, not really.

**blaine:** :)

Kurt spent the rest of the night IMing his dream boy, while listening to Black Balloon on the highest volume his laptop speakers could go.


	6. English

The next day, Kurt had english first period. He always enjoyed english. It was one of the subjects that actually benefitted him outside the classroom. It seemed silly, but everytime he learned a new word that he didn't know he started making excuses so he could throw it around. Along with the rest of his eloquent vocabulary he'd stored over the years.

Unfortunately today, the teacher wasn't in. They got landed with some random drama teacher, who insisted they all read Shakespeare and write down every word they didn't understand, so she could elaberately show them the meaning using her dramatic skills.

_Shouldn't be too bad. _Kurt turned to Mercedes and gave her a nudge with his elbow. "Hey Mercedes."

The girl swung round in her chair and winked at Kurt "Hey sweetie." suddenly her face lit up. "Oh! Do you remember your whole 'love is just around the corner' thing?"

_By remember, you of course mean bawling my eyes out and having sleepless nights._ "Um. . .yeah, I think so, why?"

"Well," Mercedes looked around to ensure no one important was listening. This class, again, was another that Kurt usually spent with only one or two of his closest friends. "Remember, Anthony? Well, I decided to give it a shot!"

"Oh Mercedes! That's amazing!" Kurt gave her hand a little squeeze. "How'd it go? Did you kiss him? Was it nice?"

His best friend laughed, "He only asked me to lunch. Which I think was extremely gentlemen like of him! Wouldn't you agree?" she started giggling and smirking at what were probably cute moments they had together at lunch yesterday.

"Well, I'm happy for you, Mercedes." Kurt frowned a little, "at least one of us are doing good in our love lives."

She gave him a questioning look. "What about-?"

"I don't think he likes me."

"Aw, sweetie." She gave Kurt a not very gentle squeeze. "He's either blind or stupid. Or just not worth it. You'll find someone. I promise!"

_I hope so._

It was only ten minutes into the period and already Miss. Cosgrove had given up.

"Fine! If your small minds don't want to be enriched with the beauty of William Shakespeare, then you may shrivel your brains further into your skulls. Fine by me!" The woman picked up her skirt and headed out the room, leaving an class full of hyper active teenagers to tear the place apart.

"Kurt, you don't care if I go sit with Anthony, do you?" Mercedes put on her best 'sorry-babe-but-he's-AMAZING' face and Kurt smiled. "Yeah, go have fun." She kissed Kurt on the cheek and made her way to the other side of the class to be with her boo. Kurt watched as he kissed her cheek when she sat down next to him and wrapped his arm round her.

_I want that._

Last night when Kurt was on IM with Blaine, all it took was fifteen minues until Blaine exploded and started going all out telling Kurt about a new guy that joined the Warblers. How he was tall, had blonde hair and brown eyes. He was stocky and had nice arms. Pretty much everything Kurt wasn't. He was average height, with brown hair and blue-green eyes. He was as thin as a stick and couldn't lift a weight to save his life. During the IMing conversation, Kurt tried not to seem too bitter and put a :) at the end of everything he wrote until Blaine said "he's just. . .UNF!" and then Kurt signed out. Getting annoyed.

He decided to supress his annoyance (he was good at that) and finished English homework he sould have had in today and pulled out his iPod. The last song he had listened to was Black Balloon. Since he put it on last night he had, had it on repeat all night and day and the play count stood at seventy-four. Kurt hadn't bothered to listen to any other songs from the band, scared they would ruin how undeniably perfect this one was. Well, almost perfect. The only problem was the singer. He just wasn't as good as he should've been. It was widely believed, that the original is always going to be better than a cover or Kurt couldn't help but wonder how many times he would've listened to that song if he had Karofsky voice looped into it. Something like a thousand plays or more.

_Perhaps, I could blackmail him into. . .No Kurt, just don't. You're so weird._

**BAMF!**

Kurt got the fright of his life and looked at the stacks of English books tossed in front of him and then looked up. There he saw Karofsky, arms crossed over his chest and a slightly angry but all over neutral expression on his face.

"What?" even after their strange little IM conversation last night, Kurt was still absolutely terrified of Karofsky. He knew Karofsky wouldn't touch him, as he had good leverage (hence, the creepy blackmail Karofsky into singing concept) and that his death threat had been empty. It shook Kurt for a while but he realised, Karofsky wouldn't kill him. He was sure of it. Sorta.

Karofsky didn't say anything and just sat down in front of Kurt and pushed his books so hard they hit Kurt's chest. "What the hell, Karofsky?"

Karofsky still didn't say anything and just pointed at the books under Kurt's chin and gave him a small attempted smile.

Kurt would be lying if he said he wasn't at least a little weirded out but looked at the paper on top of the books all the same.

**David Karofsky scored 16 out of 95 in his spelling and vocabulary assessment.**

Kurt stared at the paper. No one could be that stupid, could they? He even vaguely remembers Brittany saying something about getting twenty-five. Which Kurt thought was insanely bad but didn't say anything. Now this was terrible. But he couldn't say that to Karofsky, for fear of his head being ripped off.

"Yeah so?" Kurt tried to put on his most fierce 'bitch back-up' face. He knew Karofsky just wanted him to do it over for him and if he didn't he'd get an extra dumpster dive. Kurt could live with that.

But he was (_pleasantly?) _surprised.

"Dude, you're the best in this class. You have to help me." Karofsky's face bore a vacant expression that didn't say much apart from the fact that he was horrible at fake smiles.

Kurt just sat there, dumbfounded. Not at the fact that Karofsky was expecting him to help him but more that he hadn't threatened or simply told him to do it. All he needed was help.

"Uh. . .Um. wha-? I mean." Kurt looked at the football player. "What the hell, Karofsky?" Kurt used that expression a lot when Karofsky was around.

Karofsky had a feeling Kurt would react like this. "Y'know what, dude? Fine. I don't need you're freaking help anyway!" Karofsky picked up the books and test paper and squeezed them into his bag. "I try to be nice to you and you act like I'm gonna freaking kill you!" Kurt flinced a little at that. As did Karofsky. Surely Kurt knew that Karofsky couldn't hurt him if he tried? The boy picked up his bag and slung it over his shoulder before making his way towards one of his friends at the next table.

"Wait!" _OH MY GOD, STOP! WHAT ARE YOU DOING? _"I'll help you, okay?"

Karofsky turned around and sat back on the chair opposite Kurt throwing his bag on the floor. "You better, or else-" Kurt's expression turned to being a little scared so Karofsky backed up. "Thanks."

Kurt flashed him a tiny smile and took the test out of his hand, which was trembling. only a little though.

"You should really start listening to people, Karofsky."

"Why?"

"You spelled experience wrong."


	7. Getting Angry

"B-E-A-U. T-I-F. U-L." Kurt spelled out the words and watched as Karofsky hastily wrote them on the page. "A lot of people forget that there's two U's in it."

Karofsky was quiet. He only spoke when he didn't understand what Kurt was saying but otherwise was silent. They had resided to the library after one of his 'friends' asked him why he was talking to a fag.

"Aw, c'mon, Karofsky just tell that fairy to do it for you! You're still gonna fail anyway!" the jock laughed along with two others and Karofsky just smiled.

"Yeah, um, I'm out, guys." Then Karofsky left the room and waited for Kurt to follow him, whick Kurt did. With reluctance. "C'mon, let's go to the library, then maybe the 'fairy' can help you without being disturbed." Kurt spat with sarcasm.

When Kurt made his way down the hall, Karofsky put his head in his hands for a second and followed. This'll be tons of fun.

"I take it english isn't your strong suit, then?" kurt asked as they sat in the library across from one another. No one else was around so Kurt figured that was why Karofsky didn't mind being with him.

"Uh, um. No. Not really." Karofsky put the pencil behind his ear. "I'm not, um, very good with words."

Kurt watched as Karofsky stuttered the words and flushed a little every time he was asked to speak. It was strange. Seeing him fall over words and get embarressed. The way his eyes averted and moved to the table. Those, big, green, beautiful-

"Anyway!" Kurt suddenly announced, throwing his thoughts away and making Karofsky jump. "Let's take a break. You've already done fifty-seven, so we'll leave the next. . .um. . ."

"Thirty-eight."

"Yeah." that was too quick for neanderthal braincells. ". . .the next thirty-eight until tomorrow. But we still have to sort out the vocabulary."

Kurt realised he was coming off really demanding.

"If you want, I mean, y'know. If-"

"Yeah, okay." Karofsky gave Kurt a little grin and leaned back in his chair. "Let's have the break first, eh?"

_Why's he being so nice? _Kurt smiled. _Maybe this is all part of his plan to kill me._

Karofsky started smiling and leaned back to the table. A small chuckle left him.

"What's so funny?" Kurt asked, still staring at him. "What? is there something in my teeth?"

"No, it's just. . ." his smile faded a little. "Why are you. . .um. . .y'know, making me better at this?" Karofsky looked away in embarressment.

"Assisting you? Helping?"

"Yes!" the jock slumped back down. " Assisting. Helping. That's what I meant. Sorry."

Kurt hid his small smile.

"Don't say sorry, it's fine. And also, that's why."

"What?"

"Your inability to form simple sentences." Karofsky's face grew a little angry. Kurt felt he looked much better when his face was relaxed. it almost made him. . .cute. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean that."

Karofsky picked up his stuff and lingered over Kurt's hand to pick up the sheet of paper. "I was right. I don't need your help. I'll go ask one of my nea- neo-. Friends to help me!"

_Oh my God. Why am I such a bitch?_

"Karofsky, I'm sorry. Don't-"

But he was already gone.

Karofsky didn't know where to go after he left the library. He could hear Kurt shouting for him to come back and he wanted to but, hey. That's just the way it is when you've got a reputation. You can't hang around or even breathe the same air as most of the people you want to be friends with. It's silly. It's stupid, actually. Ridiculous. Karofsky had wanted to be friends with Kurt ever since they were kids and Karofsky used to sit on peple who would annoy Kurt. But those were the simple days. When it didn't matter if you wanted to be a Broadway star or a football hero. Everyone was the same (and majority of the kids wanted to be astronauts anyway) and sexuality was just a word to giggle at.

_Sexuality. I fucking hate that word._

Karofsky never, for a second, doubted his sexuality. He was straight. Straight as a ruler. Straight as his best friends and as straight as his father. He had a girlfriend (an amazing one at that) whom he had, had sex with. He was on the football team. But let's be honest, that proved nothing. Kurt Hummel had been on the football team, and surely every gay person in the world can't hate football? Justin Fashanu. He was gay, wasn't he? Right enough, he played soccer and not football but still. It was just the same wasn't it?

_Whatever. I'm not and that's what matters._

Karofsky was just about to turn the corner when he heard him.

"Karofsky!" He swung round and saw Hummel. Out of breath and panting a little. _Ahem_. "I'm sorry, okay? God, come back and I'll help you!"

"Why are you saying sorry?" Karofsky practically yelled at Kurt and made him flinch. "I don't want your. . .sorries okay? If I were you I wouldn't even wanna help me! I'd stay as far away as possible! So why don't you try that?"

Kurt looked at his shoes and then back to Karofsky. He was a little less scared when he saw how hurt Karofsky looked. And were those tears?

"Apolagies. I don't think sorries is a word." Kurt let out a small gasp as Karofsky took a threatening step forward. "That came out wrong! I just-"

"Just help me okay?"

Karofsky walked past Kurt and went to the library. Kurt followed him. Although he never really figured out why.


	8. Angry

**Everyone who reads and reviews this deserves a hug by Max Adler and a sugary treat of their choice.**

**To be fed to them.**

**By Max Adler.**

**(Thanks *madler who is good at pointing out my (Google's) flawed Polish!)**

Kurt and Karofsky both skipped fourth period (hey it was P.E) and spent lunch hour doing Karofsky's schoolwork and talking.

_Talking._

Actually exchanging words that weren't insults. Or threats (and much to Kurt's disliking, lyrics). They talked about school, tests, the weather. Karofsky tryed to teach Kurt the rules of hockey while Kurt tried to explain why it simply wasn't okay to be wearing jeans that were any darker than than 'Sundance Blue'. Just small talk. But despite their past and unbelievably awkward situation they were both stuck in Karofsky and Kurt were actually enjoying one another's company. It was when they moved onto music homework that things got a little weird.

"Oh my God, you have Mr. Farley and you still get A's? How?" Kurt looked flabbergasted as he looked at Karofsky's paper. "He's satan!"

Karofsky smiled and shrugged. "Maybe I'm good at it? Just maybe?"

"Yeah maybe." Kurt returned his gaze to the paper. "I get the jist you're really good at music."

Karofsky just looked at him. "How?"

"Umm. . ." Kurt didn't really know how to continue. _Would he eat me alive if I bring it up? _"Remember? On Monday? You in the auditorium. Me being a creep and watching?" Kurt tried to make Karofsky laugh and was slightly relieved when he did.

"Yeah. . .that. Um, that was just." The boy shifted slightly before looking right at Kurt. "I'm really sorry dude. Like **REALLY **sorry."

Kurt was taken aback. What for? _Well, that's a stupid question dumbass, for everything. _But why is he saying it now? _Stop arguing with yourself and say something damn it!_

"Excuse me?" Karofsky looked lost. He kept moving his head around as if he was trying to physically move the words he needed to his mouth.

"I just. I'm a dick you know."

"Yeah maybe just a little. But listen to me when I say that none of those neanderthal jerk offs that you call friends are ever gonna say sorry to someone they bulllied. At least your big enough to do that."

Kurt watched as Karofsky's face looked a little more relaxed at this realization. He slowly put his hand on his arm. "You can be so much better, David."

Karofsky's head shot up. "David?"

The smaller boy took away his hand. "Yeah, sorry, Karofsky."

"No I like David." Karofsky (David?) looked in Kurt's eyes and Kurt did the same back.

"So do I."

At that moment, Kurt realized two things. One: David had really nice arms and two: He liked David a lot more than he liked Karofsky. He realised Karofsky was the disruptive, idiotic bully who made his life hell and that David was this sweet guy who just wanted to make everything right (and had nice arms, like really nice. They were nicer than Puckerman's). They sat for a little moment taking in the silence and looking into eachother. Searching for something. Something that would make everything right. When Kurt saw David look at his lips, he knew what was going to happen in the next ten seconds. It excited him. It-

_**Bzzz.**_

David let go of Kurt's hand_ (OH MY GOD, HE WAS HOLDING MY HAND THE WHOLE TIME!) _and picked up all his things and stuffed them in his bag. The thing looked like it would explode if anything else was to be put inside it.

"Thanks." David patted Kurt's arm and scurried out the library.

_Oh sweet Mary, mother of Jesus. What the HELL?_

Kurt took his phone out his pocket and looked at the screen in annoyance.

**1 new text from Brittany.**

**I forgot the way to biology and santana won't pick up her phone. help. xx**

Kurt sighed and picked himself off the chair.

_Thank you, Brittany, for ruining such an extraordinarily perfect moment._

_No. Thank you, Brittany for ruining. . .this. . .progress. Yes, progress._

Kurt left the library and made his way to the first floor to begin his search for Brittany.

o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o

David was walking home when he started thinking of fourth period through to lunch time, and how perfect that moment they had was.

_God, I wanted to kiss him so much. No! No I didn't._

David kicked a Dr. Pepper can at his feet.

_I wonder if he wanted to kiss me too. I mean, I wouldn't have done it or anything. I'd have shoved him into a bookcase or hit him. . .or something._

David reached his house and was relieved when his mom and dad were out. They usually were when his mom was around. He slumped off his jacket and collapsed onto the couch. His feet hanging off the edge and his head resting on the the arm rest. He was finally relaxed. His muscles were really sore from practice and there was a funny pain in his back but he was okay now that he was lying on the couch, his body totally at peace. It'd be a lovely moment too, if there wasn't so much crap whizzing around in his head.

_What if he kissed me?_

_What if I kissed him? Again._

_Thank God for that text, man._

He closed his eyes and Kurt was there. Staring into his eyes like the way he did today at lunch, except this time he was closer and David could feel his breath on his face. He was really close.

"David?"

He felt something small and warm grab his face. It was Kurt's hand cupping his cheek.

"Is it alright if I kiss you?" Kurt was looking into his eyes, his filled with love and also glinting with that beautiful greeny-blue colour

David didn't say anything, he just stared._ Well, is it David? Do you want this freak to kiss you? Do you want to catch some sort of fairy disease from exchanging spit with a fag?_

"Yes." That was all it took. Suddenly Kurt's arms were wrapped round his neck and he was pushing himself on Dave's lap as he kissed him. Dave didn't know what to do, so he put his hands on Kurt's hips, even though there was no curve to keep his grip, yet it somehow felt better that way. Without thinking David took his lips away from Kurt's and looked at the boy's beautiful face. He was panting and his lips were bruised with how much David must have kissed him. He took his hands off his hips and used one to go up his shirt and the other to hold onto his face while he started kissing his neck.

"You're so beautiful."

Kurt moaned his name and then started telling David about how much he loved him and wanted him when suddenly:

_**Come on skinny love just last the year. . .**_

David's phone blared out Bon Iver and he woke up realising he had just been dreaming about Kurt.

_**Pour a little salt, we were never here. . .**_

"Damn it!"

_**My, my, my, my, my. . .**_

David scrambled up and took his phone out his pocket, not even bothering to check the caller ID.

"Hey."

"Hey babe, are you free tonight?" Tanya. Tanya was David's girlfriend of nine months. She was pretty freaking awesome.

"Yeah, course I am. I thought you were going out."

"Yeah, me and Britt were supposed to talk about meeting up tonight but she wasn't in biology, so."

"Okay, babe. Come 'round. My parents aren't in anyway."

"Oh God. You're good at sexy talk." She giggled down the phone.

"Only for you." David made his way into the kitchen before saying his goodbyes and "love you too" down the phone.

_Tonight I'm gonna have sex with her. And I swear to fucking God if that's not gonna prove I'm straight, then nothing will._

**I wish I was Tanya :D**


	9. Sex Sort of

**Okay so here's my totally logical not selfish at all reason for being dead. I didnt think people would really care if I stopped writing. I don't know if you guys do but IDGAF coz I wanna write BITCHES.**

Tanya had shown up at Dave's house a little over fifteen minutes after she called him. Less than fifteen minutes later she was missing her dress and her left bra strap was hanging over her shoulder. Dave hadn't shed clothes, he just kissed her. Fiercely. That little promise he made to himself earlier on was going to be kept no matter what. No more dreaming about... kissing Hummel. No more jerking off thinking about the guys on his hockey posters. Well, that only happened once and he didn't even mean it. One minute he's (unsuccessfully) thinking of Tanya and her perfectly curved body and slender legs and tiny fingerti- no, no they weren't that tiny. In fact they were quite big. About as big as Dave's. And suddenly her hourglass figure turned into a solid stomach with abs. And hair. Chest hair. Oh shi-! But it was too late by then. Dave had came thinking about one of the men on his wall. He came. Hard.

It wasn't as though he hadn't jerked off before 'cause I mean c'mon, who doesn't these days? But that moment when Tanya became a strong, tall man, Dave sort of freaked out a little.

He was also _very_ turned on.

"Babe, don't stop, c'mon!" Tanya pulled Dave's head closer to the crook of her neck where he had just been kissing. "And c'mon, babe, pick it up a bit! I don't care if I have a hickie tomorrow!" She brought herself closer to him and pulled the hand that wasn't wrapped tightly around her waist to cup her left breast. "Touch me."

Dave just began kissing again, using his tongue and teeth a little. This part was easy, the kissing part. Kissing will forever be embedded in his brain as a dull task that when done right can excite people. Tanya. Can excite Tanya. Just Tanya.

But this whole touchy feely thing was hard. he didn't really like the feeling of Tanya's boobs. they were just... weird. They weren't that big or anything but it still remained a mystery as to how people could be so turned on when they saw them. Whatever, he was still touching them and massaging them until Tanya let out a moan.

"Oooh yess... That's it baby, nnnng"

Dave decided that even though he wasn't getting very hard, at least Tanya was having a fucking good time, and in the end that's all that mattered. Tanya was now running her hands down Dave's front, just passed his navel when she suddenly leaned up and whispered in his ear:

"I want you to fuck me. Please, baby, I'm so wet for you." That was it.

"i'm sorry, I can't fucking do this!" Dave pushed her off gently and sat up on his bed so she was left staring at the headboard, bewildered.

"What the actual fuck, David?"

Dave (or David, he usually gets called that when he's getting told off) stood up and faced Tanya. He looked down at her and cupped her cheek with his left hand and used the other to take a piece of hair from her face. "I'm sorry, I'm just not up for it today. Maybe another time, piękny. Please, let's just.. I dunno, whatever." Fuck you mouth. Fuck you hard.

Tanya was fuming. She looked like she would explode if Dave didn't take his pants down in the next ten seconds. She stood up. "What? Are you serious? We've been going out for, like, a year or something and we've had sex ONCE! What is your fucking problem?"

David looked down at his shoes and fidgeted with his shirt. He looked like a guilty little boy caught stealing cookies. He never knew Tanya could be like this, so... so mean. "Look I'm sorry but I-"

"No!" Tanya held up one of her hands in front of her. Her 'bitch please' face seemed to be very good today. "I need more rep at that fucking school! Dating you, I knew I'd get it but once we break up I'm gonna be left with nothing and it's all because you're a fag who won't put out!"

She grabbed her dress and hastily slung it on, her sandals slipped on and she grabbed her purse. "It's over."

_Oh my God? Why does this shit happen to me?_

Dave was going to argue and beg her to come back but he figured, what's the point? His speech had ben blown out the water the second she said 'fag'. And besides if she was going to be a prissy bitch what's the fucking point in grovelling?

_What the fuck ever. Didn't feel anything when she kissed me anyway._

Dave fell on the bed and pu his head in his hands. _Why am I such a complete fuck up in everything I do? First I fucking KISS Kurt hummel and then i dream about KISSING him. I mean what the fuck? Why? I mean I'm not into him or anything. That'd be gay as fuck._

Suddenly Dave heard the front door open and his father's voice bellowed up the stairs.

"Dave! There's a girl who tells me you're a fairy who won't put out half way down the street. Care to explain?"

Oh joy.


	10. Insecurities

Kurt didn't sleep much that night. He was kept awake by the thoughts haunting his mind into a blissful ignorance to the TV blaring up the stairs.. The questions that provoked him were ones that no boy in all of Lima should be asking himself._ Would he have kissed me again? Should I have let him? Would I have kissed him back? Is he gay? Or just confused? _Kurt found it amusing that only a couple of weeks ago he was lying awake asking himself the same questions. That day of course he had actually been kissed by Karof- David. Today however he hadn't been. And for reasons unknown to him, he was actually a little dissapointed. Was that strange? Probably, it's not like Kurt liked him (although he was starting to have strong feelings toward his arms) and he never even gave any indication of wanting to kiss Kurt.

_Well, that's a lie, he was staring at my lips. For, like, two seconds. Okay maybe I'm exaggerating. He wasn't really staring at them, he was just kind of looking at them. Sort of._

Kurt thought his head would explode if he thought about it any longer. Why was it keeping him up, anyways? Stupid David Karofsky and his stupid nice arms and stupid quiff. Kurt hauled himself up and looked at the clock before grabbing his phone.

**22:12. **_Blaine won't mind me texting will he?_

**hi x what're you up 2? k SEND**

Kurt waited anxiously for a reply. Blaine was really good at soothing him in meltdown situations. Not that Kurt was going to tell Blaine about David and how he kind of wished he kissed him.

_No Kurt, you don't want to kiss him. He wants to kiss you. Yes. yes, that's right_.

**Bzz**

**hello there ;) i'm here with tony! he's actually talking to me! i'm so happy! u? xx**

_Tony... ? OH. I forgot about Tony._

Tony was the supposed hunk of man that Blaine had his eye on. And although he was good at hiding it, it sort of tore Kurt up inside. Well that was a lie, it really tore Kurt up inside. Knowing Blaine was mooning over some guy three times the size of Kurt and has blonde hair just made him feel sick. Hadn't Blaine been giving Kurt signals? Didn't Blaine see the way Kurt's eyes lit up when he walked in the room? Until this whole ordeal Kurt was pretty sure Blaine was the only boy who had ever shown interest in him. Oh well. Guess not.

_Well Karofsky must- NO. Karofsky mustn't! He probably doesn't anyway. Why would he want me?_

No one really knew this but Kurt's self esteem wasn't nearly as grigarious and high as many people thought. Kurt wore desiner labels and big brands to cover up the fact that he really wasn't as appealing as most thought he was (and they were fabulous but that wasn't really the point). At least this was what Kurt believed anyway. In Kurt's own eyes he had pear hips, pasty skin, weird shaped lips and a hair line he wasn't going to get into at the moment. His insecurities drowned him like any other teenager. Mercedes, for example, was comfortable with her weight and she was sure that she was smokin' but Kurt knew she hated her thighs and that she had stretch marks on her hips she would never let anyone see. Other than that, Mercedes was comfortable.

Kurt was far from comfortable.

He was self conscious about the tiny little things that people probably didn't even notice. He hated that his hands and fingertips were tiny. They weren't like a man's were meant to be. He hated that his eyelashes were really long and that he didn't have abs or muscely arms like a real man.

He hated that he looked like a girl.

He hated that he fit every single gay stereotype under the sun.

He hated it.

**Bzz.**

**r u ok? goin 2 bed bb? xx**

**yeh. i'm fine. just fine xx**

**o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0oo0o0o**

"So, what happened?" Paul Karofsky had sat down with David after his mother had went to bed to talk about what happened. David didn't have the heart to tell him that he didn't put out because the thought of being physically intimate with her made him physically sick. "Because apparently you're a fag now."

David knew his dad was joking and he didn't miss the smirk at the end of his talking but the word fag irked him to no end. He didn't know why. He used to throw it around a lot but now it seemed... personal. He wasn't gay though. Sure, he'd slipped up and thought about Dominic Purcell before but hey, it wasn't his fault. And maybe, once or twice, his mind had wandered over to a certain sixteen year old fashionista who roamed the halls in his school but he would never do it intentionally.

"Yeah, I didn't put out so she sort of dumped me." David mumbled. Not out of an awkward conversation with his dad (they could talk like this, it was cool) but because of the real reasons he wasn't up for it. One: Tanya never really did it for him. She was pretty and had bright blue eyes but she never really got him going. He went out with her to stop people thinking things about him not having a girlfriend. He might have sort of used her, but in the end she was doing the same, so he couldn't care less. Two: David had pretty much nearly, almost, sorta, kinda had an almost wet dream about Hummel. For the second time. He couldn't help it. The boy was just... beautiful.

_NO HE FUCKING ISN'T._ "Yeah, so that's that relationship over."

Paul ave David a stern look. "Are you sure there isn't anything else bothering you, Dave? I thought we told eachother everything."

David almost snorted a bit at the audacity of what a lie that was (on his half anyway). "Naw, I'm good. I swear. Goodnight, Dad."

"'Night son."


End file.
